Freya Who?
by readmered
Summary: In the armory after practice, Merlin is setup with a new girl in town. The knights and Arthur want to get him drunk to find out why he's so sad that night, but Lancelot doesn't approve. They do it anyway. Set in that wonderful free space between 3 and 4, so Lancelot is still alive. No Merthur without a microscope.


Woohoo! First Merlin fic! I decided to break In the Aftermath for a while and write some fun/angsty one-shots for this brilliant, amazing fandom!

 **Freya Who?**

 **Disclaimer:** If I owned Merlin, I would keep Gwaine as my pet. 'Nuff said.

 **Summary:** In the armory after practice, Merlin is setup with a new girl in town. The knights and Arthur want to get him drunk to find out why he's so sad that night, but Lancelot doesn't approve. They do it anyway. Set in that wonderful free space between 3 and 4, so Lancelot is still alive. No Merthur without a microscope. I was going to have Gwaine do his part, but Lancelot fit much better, while Gwaine would be the instigator. Enjoy!

Leon and Percival led the way off the training yard, closely followed by Elyan and Arthur, then by a rowdy Gwaine with his arms sung over Lancelot and Merlin. Gwaine had just won their practice tournament, and wanted to celebrate accordingly.

"It's just for an afternoon, Arthur! I'll even have Merlin back in time to put you to bed," he finished, snickering. The king shot a disapproving glance over his shoulder.

"No." Arthur wasn't amused with the knight's antics, even less so when he was inebriated.

"There's a beautiful new wench there, I believe she's the landholder's niece, and word is that no one's tried her out yet! Beautiful brown eyes, plump in all the right places and pair like spun gold!" A few guffaws came from the knights ahead as they began to strip off their armor for the servants to take.

"So much for the knight's code then, eh, Gwaine?" Percival shook his head, amused.

"Well somebody's got to…" Gwaine cut off and the others looked up at him. Slowly, he unbuckled the breastplate and set it aside to lean down conspiratorially. With the mischievous grin still on his face he said, "Why doesn't Merlin take a shot at her?" Gwaine stood up and puffed out his chest like it was the greatest thing he could ever do for his friend. Merlin scrunched his nose in distaste. Although she was probably nice enough, she really wasn't his type.

Elyan grinned and elbowed Merlin as he passed, telling him to go for it. Percival just said "sure, why not," which was more than Merlin had expected. Leon was amused and Lancelot smiled and leaned against a pillar, not wanting to interfere… yet.

But out of all of them, Arthur had the worst idea.

"Alright, Gwaine, if you can get this girl to sit next to Merlin tonight, we can all go to the tavern. Although, it seems Merlin spends altogether too much time there anyway." Gwaine shouted his joy and the all of the knights rushed out of the armory to fetch their own lady-friends and invite comrades to a night on the town.

Merlin hefted the heavy sack on his shoulder as Arthur patted him on the back.

"No worries, Merlin! We'll soon find you a woman of your own, although I have no idea who would want a face like that to wake up with," the king winked at him as he left, now over the humiliation of being beaten by Gwaine in the imminent humorous night Merlin would provide, awkward around women as he was.

Now the only one left was Lancelot, who stood by Merlin's side as he always did.

"You haven't said a word, Merlin." Lancelot's brow was furled under his wavy locks. "Now I think of it, you haven't said much all day. Has something happened?" Lancelot obviously drew more conclusions from Merlin's silence. "Is Arthur in danger? Or is Camelot? Are you hurt?" At the last, Merlin barked out a laugh, startling his friend.

"No Lancelot, nothing like that. I'm just remembering." Lancelot's eyes softened at Merlin's tone. He sounded sad and alone. He had heard sad from Merlin before, but never such loneliness.

"Remembering what?" Lancelot hated to pry, but he couldn't leave Merlin like this. Merlin allowed himself a small smile, relishing in having someone care for him for once. He really wanted to talk to someone, like always on this day of the year, and there was no one better than Lancelot.

"You know I trust you, Lancelot, so if you really want to know, I'll tell. When you've cleaned up, come to Gaius's chambers and we can talk."

Slightly hesitant at Merlin's solemn countenance, Lancelot agreed.

~:~:~

Striding down the corridor to the Physician's quarters, a flurry of reasons for Merlin's demeanor popped up. Was it something Arthur had said, or was someone sick? The one that kept coming up was the matchmaking knights suggesting a girl for Merlin, but he had been sad long before that. He would certainly ask Merlin when he got to his destination.

Opening the door to the familiar clutter Gaius and Merlin lived in, Lancelot saw Merlin at the table, alone, reading a thin, cloth-bound book, only looking up to greet him with a "humph." As soon as Merlin looked down again, the book he was reading shimmered and in its place stood a far heavier, leather-bound book with a unique looking lock on it.

"How…?" Merlin smiled at his successful cloaking spell. Lancelot came closer to read over his shoulder. "This isn't even English, Merlin." He was once again taken aback by Merlin's skill. Just because he knew the basics of Merlin's ability, he was continually surprised at the advanced skill level Merlin was at.

"That's the point, right?" The boy sitting across from him seemed a little lighter than he had an hour prior, but he may have just been trying to hide the pain Lancelot had seen earlier, not wanting to be called out on it again. "I suppose you want to hear what you came here for?"

"Please." Merlin's eyes wavered only slightly, then hardened, determined to tell his tale. This would be his first time actually speaking of her since the day she died. Gaius had never asked, and no one else knew. After he had poured Lancelot a cup of lamb's ear and rosemary tea and sat him down on the opposite side of the table, Merlin steeled himself and began to speak.

"Two years ago – not two years after coming to Camelot – I was walking home when I saw a young druid girl locked in a cage. After I freed her, I knew I would have to care for her and any of her injuries. I took her below the castle and brought her candles, stole some food from Arthur to feed her. I used my magic to let her know I was on her side. It could always make her smile. Oh, Lancelot, she was beautiful. She had long dark hair and bright green eyes, only outshone by her smile."

Here Lancelot began to understand. The way Merlin remembered all this after so long, he must have loved her.

"I even tried to smuggle one of Morgana's dresses to her." Here, Lancelot suppressed a smile at the imagery. "Whenever I would go down to her, I would learn a little more about her. She was one of the bravest people I've ever met, because she faced so much alone. I told her she wouldn't be alone any more. We were going to leave Camelot together and start a new life. Somewhere with a lake, and mountains, and we'd make a life together, away from the prejudices of Uther." Lancelot's eyes widened. _Leave Camelot?_ He knew how devoted Merlin was to Arthur; it was clear every time he laid down his life for his friend's. "I loved her and she loved me and everything was going to be fine." Merlin closed his eyes, trying to picture the girl he had loved so long ago but felt like she had kissed him only yesterday.

"She had been cursed years back. She had killed a man who had attacked her, but the man's mother was a sorceress. She condemned her to kill for the rest of her life. At night, she would become a Bastet, a large magical cat-like creature with even larger wings. On two occasions, she attacked citizens of Camelot."

Lancelot felt a tear fall from his eye on Merlin's behalf. The outcome of this story would not be much of a surprise. Merlin, on the other hand, sat, dry-eyed and resigned.

"The third time, she was found by Arthur and his knights, hunted, and cornered. Arthur drove a sword into Freya while she was the Bastet." The listener gasped for the first time. Arthur had killed the woman he loved. Lancelot knew none other who would not want revenge after that, much less remain unwaveringly loyal. "Although she was scared, she never once harmed me, even in that form. As she was dying, I carried her two hours on foot to a beautiful lake with mountains and crystal waters, just like where we had wanted to live. That was the last thing Freya saw; me, holding her and our home around us. She even thanked me." Merlin knew his voice was cracking, but he had to close this story, to make her death more than just a memory.

"I set her on a boat and burned her body there on this day exactly two years to the date." He sighed, knowing the weight would never truly ease. "I've only returned once, a few months later, to lay my father to rest. ***** " But that was a story for another time.

"Merlin… I am so sorry." Lancelot's voice was rough with emotion, and he had no idea what to say. Arthur himself had killed the woman Merlin loved – because of magic. And yet, day after day, the king had an unbelievably powerful warlock (Merlin had explained the difference a while back) scrubbing his boots.

"Thank you, Lancelot. I've needed to tell that story for some time now." Her loss wasn't gone, but now at least one person understood.

"What was her name?" Lancelot was unsure if he was being insensitive, since Merlin hadn't spoken her name once during his whole narrative. Merlin's eyebrows raised, surprised that he hadn't already answered that key question.

"Freya." His lips quirked as he said her name for the first time in years. "I call her Freya du Lac, the Lady of the Lake."

~:~:~

The tavern was even louder than usual, and Arthur could barely hear himself think. Merlin was sitting on the edge of the bench, his third tankard clasped comfortably in his hand. Arthur was only on his second, and Gwaine on his fourth, and both were quite impressed with the young servant. Arthur hadn't fully believed Gaius when he said Merlin spent so much time in the tavern, if only because Gwaine said no one had ever seen him in there without the other knights, but his friend could hold his liquor much better than he'd thought.

The young girl Gwaine had mentioned was, for lack of a better word, fawning over Merlin. The curvaceous blonde introduced herself as Olivia with a muddled French accent. She seemed to have a thing for skinny, big-eared, useless manservants that never stopped talking. She hadn't left his side for more than a second and made it clear she was more than open to seeing him again. She'd even begun to call him by a ridiculous made-up nickname.

Arthur took a long drink in tandem with Gwaine. Perhaps they were thinking along the same lines, since the knight had been keeping a concerned watch over Merlin the whole night.

"He hasn't rambled once, you know." Arthur looked up. Something was clearly wrong with their friend, but neither really wanted to come out and say it.

"He's probably uncomfortable with Olivia throwing herself at him like that." Gwaine stifled a laugh. The whole night, Merlin had tried to edge away from the boisterous serving girl as much as he could. Annoyed with the lack of entertainment, Arthur called out to Merlin.

"What's wrong there, Merlin? Will you not give this lovely young lady a kiss for her trouble tonight?" His servant fixed him with a glare, made obsolete with his lack of a biting response. Arthur felt some pity for Merlin, who obviously had been going through something lately. His servant hadn't stopped working, doing one chore after another, barely pausing to insult his king, no matter how much Arthur had tried baiting him.

"Don't worry Merls. You don't need to give me anything," whimpered Olivia, although she was visibly upset by Merlin's lack of kissing. Merlin spoke clearly to someone for the first time that night.

"I'm sorry, Olivia, you truly are very nice, but I'm going to retire early. Gaius probably needs help mixing remedies for the morning." Arthur was uncomfortably shocked by the pain in his voice. This had certainly been a very bad idea.

"It's barely midnight, Merlin! Stay and have a drink with us." That was Leon from across the table, whose stiff tongue always loosened with a few drinks.

"No, no, I think we've scared him off with talk of kissing – isn't that right Merlin?" Arthur wanted to get the bottom of the man's odd behavior, and he certainly couldn't do it with Merlin sober. He kept secrets like no one else, when they really mattered.

"You must be right, sire." At this pronouncement, every night at the table stopped to stare in surprise.

"Arthur… is right?" Elyan was flabbergasted, much like each of his comrades. Ever since he joined the king, Merlin had never once given in to Arthur's prying without a fight.

It was at this point Lancelot decided to take matters into his own hands. Standing up, he walked over to where Merlin still stood, half unresponsive with grief. He never should have come. A man should always be allowed to mourn the woman he loves properly and in his own way. He had had enough.

"Ladies, would you excuse us please." Lancelot's voice was not loud, but the seriousness in the air amplified each word. Every bar maid and serving girl within ten feet not only backed away, but left the tavern altogether. Suddenly, the room was far quieter.

"Merlin, I think they should know." Bleary-eyed, his dearest friend looked up at him. Every man at the table stood to attention, anxious to finally be able to talk about the elephant in the room.

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"Then on your own head be it. I've told enough for today." Merlin slumped, tipped back the last of the tankard, and ordered another. A few of his closer friends, including Arthur, were completely perplexed and a more than a little worried.

"I will, as long as you stay." Merlin murmured his consent.

"Well, for those of you who have been here for a while, this would have been about two years ago, when a druid girl escaped inside Camelot…"

He recounted it as faithfully as he could, leaving out the heartfelt details only Merlin should express. As he neared the end, Merlin sat up and put a hand out to stop him, then continued it himself, doing Freya a little more justice and trying not to lay blame on Arthur. Unfortunately, the king caught on before Merlin could reach his part in the story.

Arthur had been staring at his hands since the beginning, knowing what was to come. That girl, the Bastet, had terrified him. He had wrongly assumed the girl had chosen the power to become it, not that she was a victim. Her pleading face swam before him, twisted by years of memory, but it was enough.

"I killed her, Merlin." Dead silence.

"I know." Without hesitation and as gracefully as he could muster, Gwaine stood up, pulled back his fist, and slammed it into Arthur's jaw.

"Gwaine!" Shouts came from across the room and hands grabbed at he drunken knight. Leon was supporting Arthur and Gwaine just seemed to realize what had happened.

"Oh, Arthur, mate, I'm sorry about that, I guess I just-" Gwaine was cut off as the man he had just attacked began to chuckle sadly.

"No worries, I think I deserved that, for once." He waved everyone away and back to their seats.

Completely unfazed, Merlin tipped back the fourth of the tankards he had been downing rapidly, and swallowed the dregs. When everyone had quieted, he resumed his tale of how he carried Freya away and then laid her to rest. Lancelot noted he didn't mention his father this time.

At the last word, the noblest knight waded through his friends who lay passed out on the floor. Only the small band of brothers sat, miserable and embarrassed, by their table.

Putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder, Lancelot gave some last advice before he swung Gwaine's arm over his shoulder and lead the knights to their rooms.

Following his friend's advice, Arthur went to Merlin and hefted him to his feet.

"Let's go home." Merlin nodded against Arthur's arm.

Neither said a word all the way back to Merlin's room. As they stumbled into the tiny sleeping chamber, both collapsed from the excursion it took to make it there.

"Merlin, I killed the woman you loved."

"Yes you did, but stop doing that." Arthur was taken aback by the harsh tone.

"What?"

"Stop apologizing. I don't want revenge, I don't hate you, and it doesn't change a thing between us, alright?" He would deny it later, even to himself, but Arthur's heart ached for his friend.

"Fine, I'll stop apologizing, but only because you'll get to big a head if I don't." Merlin gave a weak smile, and Arthur counted it as a success. "Although, then your ears might look a little bit more normal." Merlin huffed and mumbled something very insulting, if completely incoherent, but Arthur laughed anyway.

"I think this is a new step for us, Arthur." His friend glared. "Look, we're finally talking though our feelings," Merlin sniggered and Arthur shoved a pillow in his face.

"Go to sleep, dollophead." Merlin fell back obediently, Arthur still leaning on him for support, and promptly fell asleep.

~:~:~

The next morning, Gaius opened his ward's door to get him up for the day, but instead saw Merlin and the king of Camelot draped uncomfortably across the too-small bed. He stuck pillows under their heads, but left them to sleep. It had clearly been a long day, and they both needed the support each other offered, even more so in the rough times he saw nearing.

The End

And there you have it! Just some angst and bromance for our favorite duo. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Do you want more like this? Just tell me in a review! Thank you all.

*I always thought that Merlin would go back to bury Balinor, and if he put both Freya and Lancelot there, why not his own father?


End file.
